What Comes To Pass
by Call me Indecisive
Summary: An exiled prince and a powerless Princess unknowingly set into motion a chain of events foretold centuries ago. They embark on a quest, to find the magic that has been severed from the land, with a cryptic Oracle in tow. As decreed by the Fates, Seven Heirs of Olympus, to answer the call: To preserve or raze.
1. Prologue

**Hi guys!**

 **So, this new story is set in an alternate universe- medieval vibes. Hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing this!**

 **Disclaimer:** **Rick Riordan the great owns these characters, I do not, however much I may wish to. therefore, only the story plot is mine. (Don't we all wish Percy was ours...*sighs dreamily*)**

* * *

 **PROLOGUE**

The throne room was packed.

The Olympians themselves sat on their respective thrones, their golden, silver, bronze, the gilded, customized armrests, the velvet cushions- resplendent in all their glory. Excited chatter echoed across the halls.

Nymphs, their eyes and noses green from crying in relief, satyrs tipsy from the nectar, braying and tripping over their feet in the absence of their hooves, sorcerers with their fairly useless staffs and assortment of weaponry- the air was filled with their anticipation, their triumphant exhilaration.

"Gods, I can't wait to get my hooves back!" sniffed one old satyr, his bulbous nose red.  
"I've missed my elm so much!" whispered a green-eyed nymph to her sister, hugging her stomach.

Zeus raised his bolt, and it morphed into a sleek staff which he proceeded to bang against the floor.  
At that sound, all talk stopped. All heads turned toward the High King of Olympus.  
"My fellow Olympians, nymphs, satyrs, mortals and magicians! We are gathered here today for a momentous occasion." his booming voice soared across their heads, further stirring up the anticipation that already existed. "For today- we shall restore the magic that the vile tyrant Kronos stole from this land centuries ago! Our father he may be- but we recognize him as none of our own blood!"

The crowd roared in assent then, warriors beating their weapons against their shields, goblets of wine and nectar slammed against trays and tables. Outside, the birds gathered, fluttering around, agitated- black specks against the gold-streaked pink sky. They sensed the oncoming storm and the change in the ripple of woven fate.

When they finally quieted, the man on King Zeus's right stood from his ornate throne. A steel-tipped green trident glowed in his arm.

"My people." he began, the deep baritone echoing. "Kronos trapped most magic in this land- stole it from all the remaining creatures of magic- and today… we return it to you. I and my eleven brothers and sisters-" he glanced at them then, proud and confident. "- shall return your magic to you- your hooves shall return, and you shall once again be able to mold into your trees! We shall break it free from Kronos's frame and reduce him to the pile of ashes he deserves -"

A single cold laugh interrupted.

A lone figure stepped out from within the crowd, and the people gasped, scrambling away from him as he leisurely paced up to the 'U' of thrones, surveying them with a predator's gaze. All was silent. The assorted scores of gathered creatures said nothing, wide eyed, watching them with bated breath. The cawing and screeching of the birds outside quieted. The storm had come.

"A pretty speech that was, Poseidon, Zeus. Hades, a man of few words as usual." His golden eyes swept over the rest of the Olympians, who had now risen from their perches, each with their weapon aimed at him. "And the rest of my lovely children are doing well too, I see."

He ambled along, not in the least unnerved by the sheer power and sharp points of weapons facing him.

"If you are here to persuade us to join you or to submit to you- you may leave right now, Kronos." Artemis's silver arrow was nocked in her bow, her arms steady, aim unwavering. "You committed great treachery- stealing from your own people-"

"Do not speak to those more powerful than you with impertinence, girl." he spat out the word. "You- you are all children! You only have your powers because my blood runs through your veins!"

"Powers that came into your sole possession because you stole them! We might have had them through the fates' will, otherwise!" Athena lifted her sword higher, and stepped forward. "You made a deal with _Tartarus_! The ends do not justify the means, father."

Kronos threw back his head and laughed. And laughed. Until he had to wipe away his tears of mirth.

"The ends? You mean how I prolonged the lives of those who shared my blood and made it nigh impossible to kill us, so that we may become the greatest and most powerful rulers in the world?" He drew his scythe then, the curved, double-sided blade glinting dangerously in the wan sunlight. "No one can stop us now! Isn't this what you want? For the Empire's flag to fly on every land in this world?"

"What you seek is madness, Kronos. Endless battle and bloodshed." Athena's gray eyes shone with an infinite wisdom. "Even with the powers of the Olympians-"

"Nobody can defeat us with our powers!" he bellowed, face reddening, veins sticking out on his forehead.

He panted with barely concealed rage, then shook his head. The cruelly carved gold crown on his head sparkled like tears on a sharp sword. The Renown crown forged by the cyclopes themselves, drenched with the blood of thousands, or so many said.

"No sense can be knocked into your heads, after all. I am disappointed in you, my children. It seems power shouldn't be given to the weak."

"Too bad. We have finally found the spell to release the magic you have stolen and kept within yourself, and with the combined magic of the twel-" Zeus began.

"If you take my magic, then the powers you have- you all have- will be taken too! They came from me!"

"Actually, no it will not." Athena looked almost smug. No one prided herself on acquiring knowledge as she did. "The magic that runs in our blood was given naturally to us, whether it was because of your blood or not. So when you lose, father- only _you_ lose."

Kronos smiled, a dangerous, half-mad smile of a power-hungry dictator, at his last desperate attempt to win.

"Very well, then. You leave me no choice. I'll have to take it from you before you take it from me!"

He raised his arms, and began to chant.

"Stop!" a shrill voice rang out from behind them all.

Kronos whirled toward it, scythe poised.

"You!" his eyes narrowed, and hate filled his golden irises… and a touch of fear.

"Me." she said, white robes shimmering, red hair cascading down her back and her shoulders. The gold and silver armbands entwining her biceps and down her arms gleamed as she calmly walked past the thrones, down the hall, green eyes fixed on Kronos. "You may steal more powers, including theirs, I suppose-" she gestured to the tense Olympians standing around them. "-but not _mine_."

"Oracle of Delphi." he hissed. "I may be vulnerable to your curses- but _you_ are vulnerable to my blade. I ca-"

"Save your threats, Lord of time." there was a strange sort of gleam in her eyes. "For I have one of my own. I know what it is you have planned, and to save you the time-" she laughed at the pun "-I can tell you it will not work. Your truce with Evil himself cannot save you and you will be trapped in it for a longer eternity than you can imagine. The Fates will curse-"

"The _Fates_? Even the Fates will not be able to stop this!" Kronos's voice was quiet, pure rage coalescing in those metallic irises, knuckles whitening as he gripped his blade that much tighter. "If you think to scare me with your empty words, think again. I may not have all the allies or the power I need now, but I will."

He turned then, to the crowd and boomed for them all to hear: "And when I return- all of you will SERVE ME OR DIE!"

The crowd gasped, and the tension in the room climbed up a notch.

"That is _enough_! Zeus, Poseidon, Hades- do what is necessary _now_!" Apollo roared, hands shaking slightly with barely concealed anger.

"Too late you insufferable children!" Kronos cackled gleefully, the blade in his hand glowing. "I win this battle!"

And with a resounding war cry, he plunged the scythe into the floor.

There was a moment of ringing silence.

Then the ground rumbled, and the ceiling shook, dust and stones raining down on the crowd below. Cracks appeared on the floor, and the entire throne room groaned in a cacophony of screeching metal and stone as the engraved stone pillars careened sideways and into the crowd, with a sickening crunch. It was utter chaos, everyone scrambled away screaming for each other, and ran, tripping over themselves to get out.

The Olympians themselves were on their knees or their backs, blinking in disorientation at the sudden destruction of their haven.

Kronos alone knelt in the center of the room, head bent, cracks spreading out from where his scythe cleaved the ground in two. The very air around him was a diluted gold and steady stream of chanting erupted from his mouth.

Sprawled sideways, head ringing, Apollo yelled: "What is happening?!"

Even Athena, always the one with an answer, was speechless. But this time, it was the Oracle who spoke: "He's buying himself time."

"Still not clearing things up!" Hades yelled from the other side of the hall. His muscles strained as he extended his magic- controlling the crumbling underground, calming the wave after wave of seismic disturbances.

"He's using his powers to construct a limbo state- for all of you! You'll all be trapped in time- your minds will be the same but your powers will be lost- all except his! And when he is ready- only he will escape!" she shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth, against the grating noise. "The Fates have not woven this ending-" she ducked as Dionysus swatted away a particularly big chunk of rock that could have smashed her skull. "-so I have no way of knowing what happens!"

All of a sudden, the rumbling and churning of the ground stopped. Dust rose in suffocating spirals, and they all coughed sporadically, searching the ruined hall...for something.

And did they find it.

The three Fates themselves had joined the fray.

They stood between Kronos and the Olympians, the middle one with her hand on the hilt of the Lord of Time's weapon. He looked enraged beyond belief.

Then they spoke, as one, voices raspy from disuse: "Kronos, son of Ouranos, Lord of Time- you have attempted to weave the world's own future- and for this, you shall pay."  
Kronos grunted, veins in his arms bulging, as he attempted to pry the scythe out of the old woman's grasp.

But it is quite hard to wrestle with Fate herself.

"Oracle, come forward, and deliver your last prophecy in decades to come."

The Oracle of Delphi knelt reverently, the whites of her eyes turning green. Green smoke coiled forth from her like a great serpent, and when she spoke, the spirit of Delphi, speaker of riddles, the seer of fate echoed through her in a hiss:

" _Seven heirs shall answer the call,  
_ _through flame and mist_ _since the kingdoms' fall_ _,  
_ _The dove, the owl, the trident's wave,  
_ _restore fate in the lost one's grave,  
_ _The bolt, the witch, the forge and the boar,  
_ _to search and find the curse's cure,  
_ _A second chance, to retrieve what was stolen,  
_ _Fail and leave the world broken."_

With that, the Oracle shook herself, back to normal, and stood. Ares stepped forward with a yell and raised his spear, an arc of destruction heading straight toward-  
An arm shot out and grabbed his arm. The Oracle herself looked surprised, as she stared down at her hand clamped on Ares's.

"The future has been woven, Ares." the Fates said. "Best to see it play out. What comes to pass will pass."  
Ares snarled, extricating his arm. "There is only one right thing to do here, and that is to defeat this-"

The air turned deadly quiet, and everyone froze.  
Everyone, that is, except Kronos. The Lord of Time's form was ablaze, radiating power. "Enough." he hissed, eyes molten gold. "I care not for your blasted prophecies! I control the future! _I control time!_ "  
Ares struggled against the restraints of frozen time, a vein pulsing in his forehead, but to no avail. The rest of his siblings were much of the same state. Zeus's master bolt was crackling and spitting sparks, but made no difference.

Even the Oracle and the Fates were bound by his magic. They stood, teeth gritted, glaring at him.

"And now." his teeth gleamed as he grinned at them. "I shall begin to take what is mine."  
He raised his scythe above his head, and brought it down once more onto the ground with a battle cry. An arc of light exploded forth from the fissure and enveloped everything in blinding golden light.

* * *

Annabeth woke up gasping.

It was the same dream again. Had been the same one for weeks, now. What was happening?

Feeling disoriented, she looked around her room, reveling in the tranquil silence and calm that came with the distance from the rest of the palace. She could hear the hoots of the owls outside and the crickets.

Her skin was clammy and feverish. Throwing back the covers, she reached the pitcher of water by her bedside and splashed some on her face, sighing as the cool liquid soothed her.

"Oh Gods,..." she whispered into the wind, staring out of her window, at the town in the valley below. "What the heck is happening to me?"

Not twenty miles away, Percy Jackson wondered the same thing.

* * *

 **Soooo, lemme know what y'all think in the review section-it really warms my heart! Please? Pretty please with cherry on top?**


	2. Chapter 1: Seer Of Foretold Trouble

**Sooo... this is a pretty early chapter because I usually take AGES to continue shit... (Sorry to all the people who have read and followed my other stories and waiting this long- I swear, I am writing those! Don't kill me!)**

 **Anyways, here is the first chapter, and I hope you understand what I have written and enjoy it... it can be a bit confusing... I have tried not to make it super confusing but you tell me...**

* * *

 **Chapter 1 : Seer of foretold trouble**

"This is preposterous. Nope. No. _Absolutely_ not."  
Piper crossed her arms, an immovable wall of frustration between Annabeth and the door.

Outside, the night sky glittered with a million stars, and the distant hoots of owls could be heard. She side-stepped Piper, and jumped onto the roof of the palatial guards' outhouse, a slight breeze fluttering few strands of hair onto her face and swaying the branches of the trees.  
Annabeth wore a peasant's tattered clothing, a moth-eaten shawl covered her blond hair and her face, obscuring all her features but her eyes. She turned and glared at her best friend, stormy gray eyes piercing; Piper stared back in a contest of wills.

It took a minute, but Piper finally grumbled and relented.  
"I can't _believe_ you're doing this. You're the princess for god's sake! Why do you-"  
Annabeth shushed her, glancing around them furtively, hoping no one from the palace had seen her sneaking out or heard them.

"Pipes, just cover for me. You know I wouldn't ask this of you if it weren't of paramount importance."  
Piper shoved her choppy brown hair out of her face, scowling. "I still don't like this."  
"You don't have to."  
Silence reigned for some time, and the breeze picked up into a heavy wind.  
"When you come back, will you tell me why?"  
It wasn't a question, the way she said it.  
"If I get any answers," she replied, glancing at the distant cluster of market shacks and village huts."Maybe."  
"Tomorrow night's the full moon." Piper said, rubbing her arms to shield against the slight chill in the air. "You think there's a reason she chose such an auspicious time for this meeting?"

The other woman shrugged.  
"Maybe."  
"That's a lot of 'maybe' s."

"Pipes!" she threw her hands up with an exasperated huff. "She's a seer, alright? She told me to come the night before the full moon- so I will. This is the best chance of getting any sort of answer to these...dreams."

She bit back what she'd been about to say: _Visions_. These dreams felt too intense, too real to be just that. And if what the Seer with the green eyes had told her was to be believed, then she was right, and these nightly visions had a deeper meaning than she originally realized.

"Annabeth, don't get into trouble."  
She nodded noncommitally. She wasn't planning on it.  
"I hope you know what you're doing."

"Me too, Pipes." A sigh. "I hope so too."

* * *

A twig crunched somewhere in the dark expanse of shrubbery in front of him. He crouched, hand reaching for his blade, finger to his lips as he motioned for the two others by his side- Charles Beckendorf and Silena Beauregard- to get down as well.  
Percy surveyed the scene with a trained eye, his breathing slow and even. One old spy in the city had told him of a tunnel beneath the impenetrable wall- many tunnels, actually which had remained a secret for all the centuries it had existed- which the city guards had no knowledge of.

" _The citadel remains unbreachable. But the city can be infiltrated without having to go through the gates." the man had said, then proceeded to explain what he had found in an old scroll rotting away in his grandfather's uncle's attic and-… well, he had phased out for a while, but the gist of it was that the man had found an ancient network of tunnels and passageways under the kingdom, that one could travel though undetected._

" _They called it Daedalus's Labyrinth, sir." he had said, enthusiastically gesticulating._

" _Daedalus?"_

" _He was an old builder, sir- he invented the most wonderful automatons and..."_

Alright, he had phased out more than once.  
The wind picked up, howling and shaking the trees, and pretty soon it became hard to hear the steady hooting of owls or the crickets. The star-strewn sky and the moon provided plenty of light but still remained dark enough to hide. Percy strained his eyes and sought out every possible hiding place in the thicket- and only when he found no one and nothing other than trees did he relax.

It was practically impossible to enter the city at night without proper verification of identity or a purpose. He'd managed to forge identification and acquire accommodation a couple of times with his spies' assistance... but during the night the guards were extra vigilant, extra cautious- and it would put many of them in danger of exposure.

And he needed to get in this very night…. He cursed himself for not making it easier and just slipping in during the day. Now, he had to risk his life, and his friends' lives just to make it in, on time.  
He'd refused to let them come with him, but they had ended up following him anyway- and then he had had no option but to let them tag along.

Dammit all, _why couldn't the stupid nightmares stop?_

If this secret system of tunnels-the labyrinth- did exist, then it would go a long way in aiding them, for escape or for infiltration.  
"Wait here." he whispered to the two hooded figures of his friends beside him.  
"Percy-" Silena began.  
"I don't want to hear it." he was firm. "Just stay."

Crouching low, he slowly made his way to the marked wall that was more than ten feet high, meant to keep the unwanted visitors away. His hand traced the inlaid bricks and layers of grit, scouring it for any out-of-place symbols. The moonlight reflected off his bronze blade and illuminated the stone.

The symbol was so small he almost walked past it:  
A tiny burnished triangle that almost glowed in he reflected light from his sword.  
The Greek _delta_.  
He grinned.

Looked like the informant was right after all.  
He raised two fingers to his mouth and imitated the call of a sparrow.  
At the signal, Beckendorf (as everyone called him) and Silena followed, on the constant lookout for the city guards.

"You found it?" Silena asked, her voice low, but a faint note of relief rang through it. She knew it was important to get into the city tonight, even though he hadn't exactly explained why.  
If they had any idea about the real reason he so desperately needed to get into the city, they would have stopped him on the count that it was too dangerous.  
But he couldn't simply stay away from the woman he had to meet tonight. He remembered the previous (and the first time) he had met the red-headed seer.

He knew he could be headed straight into a trap- the girl could have told the guards, and they could be waiting for him to walk into their welcoming arms…. But after years of running from the Greek Empire and its guards, Percy had learned to trust his gut. And his gut told him the girl wouldn't betray him.  
He almost shuddered thinking about their first meeting...

 _Percy squinted up at the sky. Judging by the position of the sun, it was two hours past noon, but the marketplace was still crowded. Not that he was complaining- the crowd served an excellent way to blend in or to disappear- whichever suited him. He elbowed his way past haggling citizens, harried wagon drivers and bearded shopkeepers, pick-pocketing children, and the general rabble that could be found around such a disreputable market until he stopped at the unremarkable green tent at the end of the street._

'Discover your hidden futures, desires and your destiny!' _read the sign painted in curling letters outside. He exhaled slowly, wiping his sweaty palms on his coarse pants. It was sweltering and with the added discomfort of the thin cloth wrapped to cover his face and hair, he was slightly irritated. Every time his hands itched to remove the scarf, he reminded himself that it was important no one noticed him._

Do I really need to do this? _He asked himself._

 _The sarcastic part of his brain chimed in:_ No, of course not- if you do not mind the sleepless nights, paranoia and literally EVERYTHING ELSE that has been going wrong in your life!

 _Besides, he may not even get the answers he required, here- after all, how much trust could one really place in the hands of a fortune teller? Most of them were frauds anyway.  
_ _But there really wasn't anything else he could do. His mother was already pestering him with concerned questions about the dark circles under his eyes and his jumpiness. He couldn't hide it from her for much longer. It was getting harder and harder to hide from his enemies, and he needed to have a clear head._

 _He steeled his nerves and secured the cloth wrapped around his neck and face, touching the sword tied to his thigh under his pants for reassurance, then stepped through the green flap of the tent.  
_ _The sudden loss of blinding sunlight made him blink. The smell of incense was expected, so was the green-tinted light and the embroidered cushions, but the other customer sitting across from the fortune teller was not. The hooded customer jumped up in surprise, reaching for his-or her- hip, tensed. He raised his arms in a gesture of peace._

 _The slender figure wore a peasant's patched-up clothing, and his- or her? It was hard to tell- head and hair were covered with a worn-out shawl, concealing the identity much like his scarf did, and all he could see were piercing bright eyes._

" _I'd rather you not gut my customers...lady." said the fortune teller, her voice stern, almost like she was issuing a warning…_

 _Percy's gaze drifted to her for a second.  
_ _Frizzy red hair cascaded down her shoulders, and the locks of hair from the front were tied back with a thin leather strip strung with beads._

 _Clear emerald green eyes met his own and he almost flinched at the intensity of their gaze. Something tugged at his chest, like he was struggling to remember a familiar face.  
_ _The hooded stranger glanced at the redheaded woman, murmured something that he couldn't quite catch then dropped three gold drachmas into her lap._

" _Thank you…" said the stranger, voice muffled. It frustrated him for some reason, that he still wasn't able to distinguish whether the owner of the voice was male or female. "I will take what you said into consideration...I..."_

 _The woman with the red hair snorted._

" _I know you will. If anything, you will overthink it." she suddenly reached over and grabbed the rag-clad customer, who hissed in surprise, trying to yank her-or his?- hand back. The fortune teller held with a firmer grip than he had expected._

 _She leaned over and whispered something into the latter's ears, too soft for him to hear. The stranger sighed, closing the bright green-or gray, it was hard to tell in the lighting- eyes and nodded, then pushed past Percy and disappeared through the tent's flap._

" _Well." the green-eyed fortune reader chirped in a cheerful voice. "Did you come here to disturb another reading or did you have something useful to ask me after all?"_

 _He forced himself to not up-end his breakfast over the woman's embroidered cushions, and made the two steps required before sinking onto the soft, flat pillow before the low table covered in tarot cards, shells and other paraphernalia._

" _I...uh, um, well- I haven't come just to know about my future or some such thing..it's a tad bit more complicated than that..see, I-"_

 _She interrupted, not with words, but by grasping his chin with a sudden fierceness, that shocked him so much, it took him three seconds to reach for the dagger hidden in his coat. Before he could so much as grasp its handle, she spoke.  
_ " _Don't bother." she let go of his chin, but continued studying him with an unabashed fascination. "Neither that puny dagger nor the sword strapped to your leg can harm me."  
_ _He started in shock._

" _How did you-" he began.  
_ " _I know many, many things, heir of the ocean." she said, her lips curving mischievously, her green eyes sparkling with something akin to amusement. "Now remove this ridiculous scarf- I can see you clear as day, even with it."_

 _For some reason, he did._

Heir of the ocean _? A memory tugged at the periphery of his mind- heirs... seven heirs...- but he put it away. This fortune teller seemed like someone who loved to speak in riddles. He was not going to gain much by reading too much into everything she said.  
_ _Unwinding the itchy, dirty cloth, he let out a slightly relieved sigh when the air hit his face._

" _Hmm." the lady said, a smile working itself onto her face. The greenish light illuminated the slight smattering of freckles on her pale face and neck. She didn't look much older than him. As she gazed into his eyes with a potency that frightened him, she murmured: "You are an interesting one...Perseus Jackson."_

 _This time he jumped back, fear curling in his gut, clenching his heart in a choke hold. He held out his dagger, crouching, eyes flitting around the spacious tent, looking for an escape, chest rising and falling with accelerated breath. No one except his mother knew his full name. Not here, not anywhere except the very place that now swarmed with his enemies- the very place he had sacrificed everything to escape. They knew him as Percy… if she knew his name, then she knew who he was- oh gods, oh gods-_

" _Oh sweet Olympus." she huffed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Put that down!"  
"How do you know my name, woman?" he demanded, brandishing his puny weapon, arm quivering. "No one does! No one! Who are you?"_

 _Her eyes hardened, and she flicked her wrist, a thin blade, half-a-hand in length shot out of her tunic and into her hand. "I promise you, I am not as defenseless as I look. I do love the drama- but this is just silly. Now, before you end up tearing my cushions to shreds-_ SIT _._ DOWN _."_

 _The same gut feeling told him to sit the hell down, before the woman grew tired of his antics.  
_ " _You may be a fortune teller," he said, his voice shaky. He still had not put away his dagger. "But there is no way… how do you know who I am?"  
_ _The blade shot back into the sleeve of her tunic and she leaned forward conspiratorially, like nothing had happened._

" _I am no fortune teller. I am a seer." her head tilted to the side. "There's a difference."  
_ " _How is it different?" he asked warily, setting his own blade into its sheath and stowed it in his cloak._

" _Well, those who call themselves 'fortune tellers' are frauds." she winked. "Unless, of course, they need to make a living. No one wants to show their palms to a true seer. Not everyone can handle the truth."  
_ _They left the other reason unspoken between them: The Empire would hunt her down and force her to offer them her services. Especially here, in Athens- at the center of it all..._

" _You haven't seen my palms yet." he said. His heart still thundered loudly in his ears. "How did you know?"_

" _Why don't you ask me what you really came here for? I charge per question, you know." her nails traced the knots and whorls on the wooden table's surface. "An as I already told you-" she glanced up at him, a smirk flicking briefly across her face. "- I know many, many things."_

 _So he told her. He told her about the relentless dreams he had every night- the nightmares, really- and the same message that had appeared and imprinted itself into his memory. The cold laughter that echoed through his head every time he was alone and the constant awareness of an alien presence in his mind- and the resulting insomnia, and paranoia._

 _She listened, but didn't seem surprised when he told her what the dream contained.  
_ " _It's..." he rubbed his eyes, exhausted beyond belief. "It's a silly dream, I know. But it's interfering with my life and I wondered-wondered what I could do to.. stop it?"  
_ " _Could you repeat what you said you hear repeatedly, again?"_

" _Uh sure… something about seven heirs and a trident? And a curse's cure.. a lot of random horse crap really."_

 _He scratched the back of his neck, feeling vulnerable and embarrassed. Here he was, telling a fortune teller- no, a seer- that he wanted to get rid of his scary nightmares. The seer sighed, just toying with a piece of fiery red hair. She didn't seem to find this stupid or amusing at all.  
_ "Two _of them in_ one _day." she muttered to herself, shaking her head. "Apollo have mercy... Has it begun already?"_

 _Percy was beyond perplexed.  
_ " _Um, what?" he wasn't sure he had heard her correctly- or if he was supposed t hear her at all. "Did you say_ Apollo _? As in, the ancient_ king of Delphi _Apollo? What does_ he _have to do with this?"  
_ _Her gaze fell on him again, her expression guarded._

" _Nothing." she said. "Never read too much into the wayward words of a seer, Perseus. I tend to babble."  
_ " _Right." he wasn't convinced, but he couldn't very well force her to explain herself.  
_ _She studied him with a practiced wariness, then sighed._

" _When did this begin?" she asked.  
_ " _Around..." he rummaged around his muddled mind. "Two months ago..."  
_ " _Your eighteenth birthday?" she asked, sharply, flipping his arm and studying his right palm._

" _Oh." he blinked. He hadn't even realized that the dreams had begun shortly after his birthday. It was unnervingly stupid of him...and a very weird coincidence. And it was becoming extremely annoying to constantly have this woman spouting things about him he would rather not have a stranger know._ " _Right. Yes, I...well, yeah."_

" _Hm." she traced the scars on the back of his hands, and the lines in his palm. It was strangely soothing.  
_ _Then she looked up and Percy's heart crawled up into his throat._

 _Her eyes were glowing._

"Percy." Beckendorf's voice shook him out of his stupor.

"Uh, right." he blinked, a little disoriented. "Yeah, I..I found it. Right here."

Then pressed the delta etched on the side of the wall.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then the delta glowed purple, and a soft rumbling sounds echoed beneath their feet, and a section of the stone wall sank into itself, forming a shallow doorway.

"Well, then." he said, turning to face Silena and Beckendorf, "I guess we're getting in!"

* * *

Annabeth wished the redheaded seer had been at least a bit more forthcoming. When she had finally managed to weasel a few cryptic-sounding answers out of the woman a few days ago, some other idiot had stumbled in and disrupted it. All the seer had managed to tell her was to meet her again on the night before the full moon, at her tent.

 _Drat it, drat it, drat it!_ She stomped through the undergrowth, wishing the province of Athens didn't have such strict curfews for the citizens. Now she couldn't just walk like a normal person- no, she had to _crawl_! Through the gods-damned bushes! She could have easily arranged for a more comfortable mode of transport- she _was_ the princess, after all- but it was necessary to prevent her nighttime visions from becoming common knowledge: The guards tended to have quite the penchant for gossip.

When she finally reached the green tent at the end of the market street, two torches were burning low in their brackets stuck into the ground, before the entrance. She dew a quiet breath, then pushed open the entrance flap.  
Annabeth gasped and stared at the torn side of the tent- a gaping hole into the darkness. Cold air drifted through it, into the tent.

The place had been torn apart.

* * *

 _Percy yelped, vaulting himself away from her, tripping on a cushion and landing on his butt. The seer convulsed, her body rising a few inches off the ground, glowing with a green aura and the smell of dead reptiles overpowered his nose._

 _Then she shook her head, and her everything returned to normal.  
_ _She raised an eyebrow at him sprawled on the floor._

" _Um, y-you just-you-"_

" _I apologize for that- it sneaks up on me sometimes." she waved it off as though glowing green and floating was a daily occurrence. Gods above, perhaps it was! What kind of seer was this woman? Were all seers like this?  
_ " _Now." she said, finally looking serious. "Listen to me carefully. On the night before the full moon, meet me here. And you will find the truth you are seeking."_

 _Then she cocked her head to the side, as though she were reconsidering.  
_ " _Or perhaps just a part of it. Either-"  
_ " _-What kind of an answer is that?"  
_ " _The only answer I can give_ _you, I'm afraid...unless you turn up on time. Either way, I can see that your path requires you to be here on that very day." she_ _brushed_ _off the feathers that had somehow gotten tangled in his hair. "Now, I do have other customers, you know, so you'd better leave."_

 _He stood, not entirely sure what on Olympus he had even gained from this trip other than a cryptic promise of answers in the future and a few more-than-mild shocks. Could he even believe what she had said?  
_ _Well she_ did _seem like a real seer- if the green glowy thing was any indication- or the fact that she knew who he was- and all the other eccentric quirks about her that stood out... she was far to strange to not be a seer._

" _Oi!" she yelled after him.  
_ _He glanced back at her frown and outstretched hand.  
_ " _You didn't expect it to be a free reading, now did you?"_

* * *

A lantern with its glass broken sat on the low mahogany table, illuminating the various items scattered about.  
Cushions were split open, their stuffing spilling out. Unlit oil lamps were toppled, a pack of tarot cards were tossed over the table and a disturbing dark liquid stained the carpet. It was a complete and utter mess.

"No, no, _no_..." she whispered, kneeling beside the stain. Dark, sticky, red…. Blood. She could smell the metallic tang and heat of it.  
And by the looks of it- it hadn't been there very long.

 _Gods above._

Had the seer been attacked? Annabeth hadn't even known her name. What if the woman's assailants were still here?  
Fear coiled and raged- she could taste it in the back of her throat, choking her, her mind was blanking.  
What in hell had happened? Was it a coincidence that the seer's tent had been ransacked exactly on the night Ananbeth was supposed to meet her?

 _Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods_. This was too unexpected.

Then someone else burst through the tent's entrance flap, and she yelped, swinging the half-a-hand sword she had brought from the guards' outhouse between them. He was taller than her, and much more well built- that meant he could outrun her easily and kill her much more easily- oh gods, was he the one that attacked the seer? What was she-  
The newcomer sucked in a breath, just as shocked as she had been, staring at her, then at the mess behind her.

From his reaction, she decided, with an overwhelming sense of relief that he hadn't been the one to ransack the place. There was something incredibly familiar about him… the way his raven black hair curled around his temples, his eyes twinkled in the scant light of the lantern- maybe he was just a good Samaritan who had heard something...

She was so caught up in her thoughts, she didn't see the sword until it was too late. His blade knocked the one she held out of her hands, and whipped back to press against her neck on lightning speed. She didn't even have time to gasp.

 _Ah, crap._ She thought. _He wasn't just a good Samaritan after all._

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice steady, but eyes flitting around the tent, assessing the damage.

"I...who are _you_?" she asked, acutely aware of the bronze kissing her skin. Indignant anger pulsed through her, and she welcomed the rush of adrenaline, thinking furiously. She prided herself on her brains, didn't she? Well, there had to be a way out of this situation, and she was going to find it.  
And there was no way she could tell him who she was, Gods dammit.

He smiled tauntingly and stepped closer at her reply. The pressure on her throat increased and she felt the prick of pain before the slow trickle of blood as it dripped down collarbone and into her tunic.  
" _I'm_ the one with the sword here, princess." his head cocked to the side. "And that means _I_ ask the questions."

Her heart leaped into her throat at the word _Princess_. The rational part of her brain told her it was just a coincidence and that he _couldn't_ know- then his sword traced her chin, up into her hairline, then in one swift movement tore off the shawl she wrapped around her head.  
 _Dammit, dammit dammit_ _!_ She swore silently. Now there was no use. He would know who she was.  
As if on cue, he gasped, dropping his arm without realizing.

 _Now before it's too late!_ Her instincts yelled at her and she drew her preferred dagger from her belt and threw it at the man. He ducked on instinct, stumbling back. But the dagger hadn't been to hurt him- just to distract him while she got the hell out of there. She picked up the unwieldy sword he had knocked out of her hands and ran out the hole in the tent.

"Princess-"

She ran. She ran without looking back.  
 _Don't get into trouble_ , Piper had told her.

"Sorry Pipes," she said, gasping for breath. "Sometimes trouble just happens to sneak up on me."

* * *

 **Wow... so looks like Annabeth is having a hell of a day, huh?**

 **If y'all got any questions, feel free to PM me or even ask them in the review section-I shall reply to those questions in the author's note in the next chapter! Reviewing means a lot to me, guys- please do so and let me know what you like or do not like about this story, or anything else you wanna rant about!**

 **Love,  
Shauna**


	3. Chapter 2: More than Meets the Eye

**SORRY SORRY for the late update guys! But I never am gonna be regular...**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: More than meets the Eye**

Rachel Elizabeth Dare had been her name for the past few decades. She had gotten tired of the ritual every seven years- an endless cycle of changing her name, her appearance, her town- she had never stayed long enough in a place that people wondered how she never aged. Word would have spread and her entire plan- the fates' plan- would have gone terribly awry. Somewhere between the coastal mountainside of Othrys and the farmers' community in Dalmatia, in the baking sun and coughing up hairballs for the eighteenth time, she'd decided that if she was going to live for the Gods knew how long, she might as well do it on her own terms. For the most part, when she had become one with the Oracle of Delphi- it felt like a veil had been drawn over all that was human about her: her memories and her emotions. However, since magic had been erased from the land, the Oracle preferred to slumber within, blinking open a bleary eye every now and then, only to return to the eternal slumber, waiting for the right time.

Waiting.

It seemed to be all she had been doing for the past two-and-a-half centuries.

Rachel had not decided to stop hiding, no. She decided to hide in plain sight. And when she'd seen the sign advertising new acts for hire at the traveling circus, she had jumped at the opportunity.

 _A Seer_ _? Ha, frauds you lot all are,_ the circus manager had told her, when she'd asked if she could join his troupe. She'd blinked up at him, undeterred and he'd relented. _Alright, read my fortune then._

She'd studied the circus master- the stocky build that suggested he'd done hard labor, nails bitten to the quick and red-rimmed eyes meant he was facing hard times, a rusted iron ring on a calloused finger and a folded paper tulip peeking out of his front pocket meant he had a daughter and a wife that depended on him and she didn't need her sharp mind to know he thought she was a waste of his time.

Then she'd gripped his rough palms in hers and read out his future from the grimy lines on them. His real future? Perhaps, perhaps not. But the man had been impressed enough a couple of days later, when he came running and employed her.

"You were right! The gold I needed was right under my nose-" and on and on he'd rambled, his own interpretation of her vague words on his fortunes.

How did it work?

Because the key to predicting someone's future was not in telling them what they wanted to hear. It wasn't in guessing what their future could be. It lay in presenting the lie in such a way that it could be interpreted as the truth when looked at in different ways. A good dose of realism and vagueness within the dreams one must paint to satisfy customers.

And it had worked, for the past decade she had spent running around with this circus troupe and later.

There had been no need for the Oracle to lend even a sliver of her other-worldly power.

Men were easy to read- they always had been. One wanted money, another wanted power, or women. The more ambitious ones wanted all three. Women were not much different. Let a customer ramble on about their next-door neighbor's too-loud dogs, or the unfairness in how much prettier one's sister was than she, and there was 'fortune' to satisfy them at least until the circus moved on from that town.

There was no need to read a palm when you could read a person.

Rachel remembered enough of her memories as a mortal to know she had excelled on that front.

So it had come as a shock when the Oracle had suddenly decided to come a-knockin' during another read for a customer in Athens.

The lady was very vague in her questions and was particularly troublesome to read- partially due to the scarf wrapped around her head. But her clipped, properly enunciated diction and perfectly manicured nails made it clear to her that her customer wasn't just another face in this sprawling city but was of noble birth.

"-Wondering what, hypothetically, could be done about recurring dreams of the sort-"

"My Lady." Rachel interrupted, idly spinning a lit incense stick between her forefinger and thumb. The Lady stiffened, and Rachel rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. You came here expecting answers, and you're surprised that I know them?"

Hesitation and wariness shone in the stranger's gray eyes. She'd looked around, as though hunting for hidden onlookers, then slowly pulled back her cowl and scarf.

Young. Yet another surprise for Rachel. Admittedly, she had been quite curious about these dreams.

"Alright, now describe to me these dreams of yours" she had said, taking the Lady's palms in her own nonchalantly. She did not seem very eager to let Rachel hold her hands, but seemed to accept that naturally, this would be a part of a fortune teller's process. "When did they begin?"

"Two months-"

But Rachel had stopped listening. Stopped breathing. Stopped existing on the same plane of existence.

Because the coiled snake, the power within Rachel that she had thought was forever lost reared up like the mighty python it had been and lunged through any barrier Rachel may have put up between the Oracle of Delphi and her mind. The barrier ripped apart as easily as though it had been imaginary (It was, but these were semantics) and Rachel froze.

She had forgotten what a rush it had been to access that all-knowing power, what a handicap it had been to lose the Sight, and the voice within.

She didn't know how long it took for the spirit of Delphi to regain her full strength from its hibernation, but Rachel let her- the energy she had felt emanating from everything once again revealed itself and she felt sparks skitter against her skin.

In some practical corner of her Oracle-muddled mind, she made the connection: There could only be one reason the Oracle had returned from her centuries of slumber.

The Fates' plan was to come to its fruition.

It was time.

And the young lady sitting in front of her was a part of the 'it'.

With a start, Rachel realized that no time at all had seemed to past while she had come to these stunning revelations. In fact, the Lady seemed to have not noticed her reaction at all.

"-ago." she had finished. What had the question been?

It did not matter. She didn't even need time to adjust to her perception of the world. Everything fit into place, as though she hadn't just spent centuries without the Sight. It was difficult to explain the Sight: It looked like everything and everyone had an aura about them. A color and an energy- Gods knew where it came from- but it had been quite telling in terms of perceiving or predicting. So many loose threads hanging in the world, a spectrum of possibilities and futures, endless paths delving and weaving from one into the other- it was almost a sensory overload.

Oh, how she had missed this.

The back of Rachel's eyes pricked with tears. She didn't let them form or fall- she was more than two centuries old, not a child- and steeled herself against the onslaught of hanging futures she could sense. Focus too long on the possibilities concerning everything and it could overwhelm her mind and steal her sanity. She remembered the day the Oracle had merged with her mind and she had nearly drowned herself in an effort to 'get the screams out of my head'. Dragging herself away from the memory, she focused on the mysterious girl who was to play a role in the remaking of this world. She must be something interesting.

So she probed deeper into the consciousness and the energy that surrounded the gray-eyed lady, and found a treasure trove. The Fates sure did pick the most impressive ones for their quests, didn't they?

Reverting to the conversation that seemed to have stopped ages ago, in her head, Rachel said:

"Two months…. I believe I _can_ help you, Annabeth Chase."

Leaning forward (for dramatic effect- whoever said being a supernatural seer meant one couldn't amuse oneself?), she could see the girl's- for Annabeth _was_ a girl- a mere infant compared to Rachel- fear and her wariness She did not wish for her appeal to a seer to become public knowledge. Unsurprising, for the Lady Chase was no lady- but the princess of this quaint little trade city.

If Rachel looked harder, she was sure she could uncover any and every secret the girl had hidden or known in her short lifespan. She assumed Rachel had glimpsed her face in public and recognized her now. A practical and sensible assumption, for the other option (of Rachel having seen it in her past, because of her supernatural abilities) would have been absurd.

Strangely, Rachel couldn't sense any self-righteous, arrogant pompousness royalty were generally known to acquire.

"You...can?" Annabeth was hesitant, but her voice was firm. Hope and confusion colored her energy, as Rachel noted with satisfaction.

"Yes. However, princess, there is something else you need to think about. Always trust your instincts. Your hunch may well be correct, but there is always more than meets the eye. Do you understand?"

Annabeth looked quite unnerved, but nodded, mystified.

Rachel could see the paths converging as her words were said out loud- the choices before her blurring and separating and joining once more. It had always been this way. It felt like a glorious return to normal. So she said, bravado emphasizing her words: "About the dreams….The night before the full moon- meet me here, and I assure you- you will find the solution to your problems."

 _As will others,_ she refrained from mentioning. She decided she could hold out on informing Annabeth of her role in the Fates' plan to stop Evil just yet.

Annabeth nodded, opened her mouth to ask something and closed it again.

"What is it?"

"Have I….Have I seen you before? Somewhere in the-the Palace, perhaps?"

Now it was Rachel's turn to be confused. She dove into the princess's mind, and rebounded when she glimpsed herself in the blurry, muddled memory of her dream. The princess clearly had not connected the dots yet. However, to be fair, mortals never could remember their dreams all that well.

 _Ah_ , she thought sadly, her heart clenching at the resurfacing of her own last memory of the day it had all gone so very wrong. She shook her head.

"No, I do not think so."

Not seeming entirely convinced, the princess absent-mindedly nodded, putting her cowl back on. It seemed their so-called fortune-telling session had come to an end.

Then another over-eager customer had burst into the room and Annabeth jumped, hand on the long dagger strapped to her hip.

 _Smart to be armed_ , Rachel had mused.

Then she'd taken one look at the new guy's energy and realized the Fates were throwing _two_ of the chosen seven into her lap in _one_ day. Quite a beginning.

"I'd rather you not gut my customers….lady" An objection and a warning. Annabeth relented. She bent, dropping three drachmas into Rachel's lap- substantial payment- and murmured: "This should be enough, I hope."Then she straightened (she was taller than the average female, Rachel observed, the human in her a tad bit envious) and the doubt in her gray eyes were clear as day.

"Thank you" she said, with some finality about it. "I will take what you said into consideration...I.."

Then it hit Rachel, the subtle threads of silver shot through Annabeth's aura, the stormy dynamic in her thoughts- the multiple possibilities of her future- it made sense.

Athena had had a similar aura. So this was her heir-to-be, then.

"I know you will. If anything, you will overthink it." From the curiosity and surprise that shone in her eyes, Annabeth seemed to agree. Rachel grabbed Annabeth's hand- ignoring the latter's sharp hiss of disapproval- and whispered into her ear: "Do _not_ forget. The night before the full moon. Here."

The princess nodded her acquiescence and promptly left as fast as her feet could propel her forward.

Then she turned her attention to the second heir of the Olympians who had turned up on her doorstep. Having done this with Annabeth, it was easier to look for subtle hints in this new arrival's aura. _Soul-searching,_ she had called it, in her earlier days. Turbulent cobalt blue and sea green- the same as his eyes, shot through his aura like the very waters whose color they represented. Poseidon. Another friend, another lost.

 _Mourn later,_ Rachel reminded herself. Mourn never, more accurately. They would come back, all of them. Mourning was for the lost, for the dead. Her friends weren't dead yet.

The thought bolstered her courage.

So she filled the cracks in her heart, her soul, her past with a devious smile and what she was fairly sure was the most annoying attitude for her latest customer: Perseus Jackson.

 _My, my, you have chosen infamous heirs for your gifts, my Olympians,_ she thought, sensing the layers of mind-numbing guilt, determination and such anger in the young man's troubled past. _Princesses and princes of ruined cities and kingdoms._

Then she took a closer look at the entirety of Perseus' energy and realized that there was so much more.

 _I guess you really do know how to choose them._

She could see it clearly, several lines of possibilities entirely collapsing and some meeting- and she knew what she needed to do.

* * *

Once the troubled prince Perseus had left Rachel's tent, she flipped close the entrance and left, over dried leaves that crunched underfoot and a narrow, winding path up to a cluster of smaller tents at the foot of the hills. She stopped halfway, letting the wind toy with her frizzy red hair, enjoying the ambiance. The Lake reflected the moonlight, calm waters lapping softly against the bank. It was soothing.

Joy filled Rachel's heart- and relief. Relief that she would finally stop this endless waiting, the horrible anticipation that had kept her up several nights.

 _The end is nearing,_ she told herself. _It is here._

 _No,_ the spirit of Delphi said to her. _It is the beginning._

* * *

Annabeth ran faster than she ever had during any training session in the palace. The dagger strapped to her waist bumped about, restricting her legs, so she shoved the scabbard to the side of her hip and drew her blade, running with it held aloft. Her mind was racing faster than her feet. She knew this part of the city- without the dirty alleys and packed buildings- knew the calm lake, the hillside. If she vaulted over the ledge made by the pile of rocks on the northern side of the circle of secluded tents, then she would reach a small stream flowing toward the lake. A fisherman or anyone looking to make a quick buck would be there, surely and she would hitch a ride back to the safety of the palace. She definitely wouldn't be able to meet the seer- either because she was dead, or fleeing herself.

Nearly winded, she jumped over the ledge and landed shakily on two feet and wobbled, careening dangerously over the side and into the rapidly moving stream. Quickly dropping the guard's sword she had taken from the outhouse and catching a hold of the rock to her left, she righted herself and blew out a slightly relieved breath.

But it seemed her relief was quite misplaced, because in front of her stood a woman, featured covered by the shadows and a moth-eaten cowl. She didn't seem very remarkable- dirty, old clothing and worn-out boots.

Except for the arrow she had nocked in her crossbow, aimed at Annabeth.

"Well then, princess." said the woman, lightly. Then, as though chancing upon her during a leisurely stroll in the park, she added: "What say you and I take a walk?"

* * *

Rachel sat as precariously as she dared at the junction of two branches on an old oak tree overlooking the clearing her tent was in. It had taken a lot of work to completely ruin her carefully set-up tent. The physical exertion after such a long time was both tiring and welcome. Her wrists still ached slightly but the adrenaline coursing through her veins made up for it. She had panted quite a lot climbing her way up this tree however, so perhaps it was time to get back into shape. She curled her arms around the upper branches, steadying her knees. And waited.

She couldn't look at the tent without feeling a pang of sadness and inexplicable regret. It had been a haven for as long as a mortal's lifetime. Of course, she was attached to it. But there was no time to long for keepsakes or mourn the loss of a few possessions.

Technically, Rachel was not supposed to interfere in the workings of the world, despite seeing the future. Well, 'seeing the future' made it seem very straightforward and simple. It was anything but that. Nevertheless, this situation being unlike any other regular quests and also quite literally being the path to either destruction or recreating a better world, she had to at least nudge things in the right direction.

The sun set, the sky fading from the orange-pink-lavender of the evening into the purple-black of the night sky. It was a windy night, the powerful gusts flipping locks of Rachel's hair into her face. It was a never-ending war with her hair- over three centuries and it had not changed. She'd long since embraced it as one of the only constants in an ever-changing world- the sun, the wind and Rachel's untameable hair. It brought her some comfort after the past lonely decades.

There- in the dark- she saw movement. _Finally_. Her joints were uncomfortable, stuck in the same position for nearly an hour. She stood as carefully as she could, stepping closer to the trunk, throwing her arm around it in an embrace. The rough bark chafed against her palms and chin, as she slowly, so slowly inched her way down the tree- feeling out and stepping onto branches, switching handholds, until she landed on solid ground, shakily panting. Yes, she really did need to get back into shape. This wouldn't do at all.

And she watched all the action unfold exactly as she had designed.

She wondered if her predecessors ever felt the pride she felt when she did something useful with her gift. Each Oracle had been different- each had had a different reaction to the terrible curse and incredible boon that the gift of Prophecy was. She vaguely remembered the sunken cheeks and bright eyes of the hag that had been the Oracle before her- she had looked more like an ancient, all-knowing entity than Rachel ever had, that was for sure. However, Oracles were never immortal. Until her. Until the curse. Which brought her back to the present and her current short-term goal: Set The plan into motion. She had no more inkling of what was in store for the seven chosen by the Fates than they did. She did however, being the literal speaker of the Fates' prophecies, believe in fate.

And she just knew, in her bones and in her ancient heart, that _something_ was to happen tonight.

* * *

Annabeth walked slowly, one step in front of the other, arms above her head.

 _Steady breaths,_ she told herself. She hoped against all hope that when this woman lead her to the rest of her entourage, including the green-eyed man who had accosted her at the seer's tent, they wouldn't uncover the hunting knife she'd hidden in her left boot, just in case. Not that there was much of an escape from this situation. She had no way of knowing how many were even there. So she occupied herself with other questions, instead:

What reason could these people have to capture her? The man from earlier had seemed genuinely shocked to find her there, so it was safe to assume they hadn't been there for her. Although why would anyone want the princess of a moderately well-off trade city anyways? The recent changes in her palace, excluding her excessive nightmares had been disturbing enough, but she doubted the recently crowned young King of Tamalpais was behind this. This, being the ransacking of a seer's tent and the current capture of Athens' princess.

That brought back the question of the seer. Where the Hades was she? Was she dead? Captured? If so, by whom? Who would want a lowly entertainer who read palms in a heavily incensed tent? A whisper of thought raced across her mind: The Empire could have feared she really was a seer.

Being a practical realist, with the honed mind of a battle strategist, she didn't believe in magic or seers or Fate. However, she had to admit, whatever the Red-haired woman had been- she was a force of nature. There had been an honesty in her gaze that Annabeth had not expected from a fraud- _ahem_ -fortune teller. Something had made her pause, in her presence, her words holding more weight than anybody's should. She had no idea why she'd even come to the tent when the crazy lady told her to. She supposed she really had been desperate.

Sleep was a luxury she had been slowly deprived of and it wasn't aided by the recurring visio- _dreams_. She gritted her teeth in annoyance. Her mind often slipped up even after she had resolved to not call the dreams visions. Visions were _real_. Dreams were not. And there was no practical explanation that allowed her _dreams_ to be real. The stress was getting to her. Her father had been distraught over his second wife's death- yes, the second wife was also dead, the poor man- and had withdrawn to his chambers, where he proceeded to ignore his kingdom and peruse ancient, time-worn novels on fictional flying carriages. _Aircrafts_ , her father, the King Frederick had called them. The weight of responsibility had fallen on her shoulders and she'd had to not only solve an entire kingdom's worth of problems, but also remain within her boundaries as daughter to her father and sister to her half-brothers.

 _Flying carriages, my arse,_ Annabeth had snorted.

And as an addition to her ever-increasing list of headaches, the Empire's recently crowned King Luke Castellan of the newly recognized House of Castellan, had turned up with only two days' notice and proclaimed he had arrived to better acquaint himself with the neighboring kingdom to his. Annabeth was wary enough and smart enough to see his motives as clear as day. After all, what better time to scope a potential rival's weaknesses when they were weakest? And what better opportunity for King Luke of Tamalpais than when Athens had an unstable King and a floundering court? Queen Helen had been beloved by many and Annabeth was surprised by the hard way in which most took her death. She hadn't had any idea how many close friends Helen had had.

As the princess and her captor stepped into a small clearing in the thicket, she shook herself out of her internal monologue and focused, once more, on her surroundings. The same man who had pointed his sword at her stood up from his crouch when he saw them, the same sword of his belted to his hip, in a scabbard. Another, larger man sat on a larger rock, sharpening a wicked ax with a whetstone. The blade sang rhythmically, as he dragged the rock over it.

 _Zing. Zing. Zing  
_ The nearly-full moon was out from behind the clouds now, lighting her captors' faces. Annabeth's prized strategic wit explored possibilities- of escape, of motive for her capture, even of completely unrelated things like the reorganization of her library. She'd always been good at compartmentalization. It was what had kept her mind sane these past months of running the kingdom.

The man sharpening the ax looked up- not to her, but to the woman behind her. She could almost imagine the tingle at the point between her shoulder blades where the woman aimed her crossbow. She tried not imagining the pain she would feel if the arrow found its mark.  
"Percy." the woman said, her voice guarded. Annabeth detected indignant admonishment in her tone. "I think it's time you told us what exactly you dragged yourself out here for."

 _Zing. Zing,_ went the ax.

Percy- for that seemed to the name of the green-eyed man- grimaced. In a very un-captor-like way, he rubbed the back of his neck and cleared his throat.  
"Can that wait?" he asked, gesturing to Annabeth. "We seem to have bigger problems, don't we?"  
She couldn't help it.  
"Excuse me?" she spluttered, though her arms were still above her head, her hands curled into fists. " _You_ have problems? _You_ accosted _me_ at that tent! I have done no harm to you and I demand that you let me go!" A futile attempt, but she had to try.  
Percy frowned at her and despite herself, she drew herself up straighter and raised her chin higher, like the princess she was.

The unmistakable sound of a bow pulled tauter sounded from behind her, and the Large unnamed man who was till sharpening his ax, seemingly unaffected by the arrival of royalty murmured something too soft for her to catch. He looked up again, at the woman behind Annabeth and said: "Silena. Stand down." Silena grunted, but Annabeth didn't dare turn around or even shift her head to the side to see if she'd complied. She was fairly sure she would not like the feeling of an arrow through her back.  
Percy stepped closer and he instinctively took a step back, glaring at him. He raised his hands in apology, seeming almost sheepish and yet amused as he said: "Sorry, princess, but I've got to check if you've any weapons."

Her gut tightened as he patted her sides down. Lips pursed, Annabeth stared straight ahead, ignoring the flush she was sure was painted on her cheeks at their position: his arms- a stranger's arms- around her waist and her hips, thoroughly sliding over the fabric, searching for hard ridges or sharp ends of weapons. As his hands traveled lower, she prayed to any god that existed, that he wouldn't find the hidden knife.

He did. The blade glinted dully in the moonlight as he pulled it out and studied it.

"Pretty" he said, teeth gleaming as he grinned. He raised his arm and flung the knife as far as he could. She saw the glittering arc of metal reflect the moonlight as it disappeared into the undergrowth, along with her hope for escape.

"Now" he said, rising to face her, closer than she would have liked. "What were you doing at that Fortune teller's tent?"  
Annabeth opened her mouth- to deny him an answer or demand her freedom or tell him the truth, she had no idea- but then someone else stepped into the clearing and she lost her voice.

The Large ax man jumped to his feet, alarm rippling across his face, dropping the stone and raising his weapon. Silena swore like a dirty sailor from behind Annabeth. Percy swung around, eyes widening.  
"You!" he said.

Red hair glinted copper in the moonlight. Annabeth had only ever met one person with hair that unique.  
The seer.  
Confusion diffused her brain. Multiple theories she had arrived at in the span of the past half an hour crumbled and others took their place. And this man- Percy- he seemed to recognize her as well.  
What _had_ he been doing at the tent anyway? The seer wasn't dead? She wasn't captured or worse? How was she here, unharmed, while it looked like a hurricane had ripped its way through her tent?  
The girl- for the seer looked younger than she had earlier, without her beaded headdress and heavy incense smoke obscuring her face- grinned. She attempted a small wave.

"' _Yes, it's me-'tis me, the one you forgot' said the moon to the stars_ ," she said, emerald green eyes illuminated like a ghostly light. "Yes, very good observation. It is me. Although I never properly introduced myself."  
As though they had all agreed to meet for a midnight tea party, she gracefully slid into an exaggerated curtsy, her smile growing ever wider at their dumbfounded expressions.

"Rachel Elizabeth Dare. At your service."

* * *

Percy had known quite a few annoying people. His cousin Thalia was incorrigible. His younger half-sister was annoying when she wanted something. He himself, was a great example of an annoying person, as his friends and mother continuously reminded him.  
However, he was sure that Rachel Elizabeth Dare, this fiery-eyed and even more fiery-tongued witch of a seer was the most annoying person he had met- and he barely knew her! Her cryptic words and dramatic entrances were getting on his nerves.

But confusion prevailed.

"So.. you aren't-" he glanced back at the princess, at her astounded expression. "-you are alright? What- what happened to your tent? You asked me to meet you there-"  
" _Wait_." Annabeth interrupted, her eyes impossibly wide. "She-she asked _you_ to come as well?"  
Her gaze snapped from Percy to Rachel and back and he could almost see the wheels of truth turning in her brain, forming connections.

 _As well?_ Wait a minute.  
" _You_ were there to meet _her?_ " he rounded on the princess.

She glared at him. "Oh, give the man a medal-no, I was _obviously_ there to tear apart her tent for no reason and to met your charming self!"  
"Actually." Rachel interrupted, her smile showing no sign of disappearing. "She was."  
"Huh?" both of them, Silena and Beckendorf were perplexed beyond belief. He'd nearly forgotten that neither Beckendorf nor Silena knew what in Hades was going on, even more so than he.

The Seer flipped her unruly hair over a shoulder.

"Seh was there to meet your 'charming' self. Do you remember what I told both of you? 'Come to the tent on the night before the full moon and you'll find the solution to your problems.'" her smile disappeared finally, as she met their eyes with as serious an expression as Percy had ever seen on her. "And this is your solution."

She gestured to Percy and Annabeth.

"You," she said. "You are each others' solutions."

* * *

 **So, is it too much to hope that you liked it? Drop me a review, and let me know!**


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